Kage Baker was of the opinion that, when one was ill, one should take time to fully recover before attempting to leap once more into the millrace of life.

At least, she always told other people to do that. She herself seldom took any time off at all, and would resume her duties and activities as soon as her fever broke or her wounds healed. It’s different for me was her philosophy.

Most people feel a certain amount of that, I suspect. We’re always so sure we can beat the odds, and return to the fray as soon as our heads clear … certainly, I’ve depended on an inhumanly robust system to get me back on my feet in record time. Usually works, too.

And, in fact, it’s working this time. For a 62-year old with a few health problems, I’m healing from my nephrectomy very quickly. I was on my feet in mere hours, and home in 3 days;  the pain is nearly gone, and my incisions are closed and healing. However, while I am over-all doing well …. this whole experience has not been as easy as I had anticipated.

I think I forgot I’m no longer 18. It’s an easy mistake to make – despite the evidence of mirrors, we do tend to overlook that passing of time on the insides of our heads. I’m still demonstrably that young woman who spent Halloween of 1971 eating smuggled pizza and clandestine chocolates. Hell, I’m still that only slightly stiffer woman who was climbing in and out of her hospital bed in 2011, a mere 8 hours after a hysterectomy, rather than use a bedpan.

I don’t do invalidism.

On the other hand, I currently have 4 stab woulds in my abdomen. They’re better than the gaping canyon left by the original kidney surgery – none more than 4 inches long – but they are all about 6 inches deep … and, something I keep forgetting, a major organ has been removed and left a void in my innards. My innards apparently object more than I had anticipated.

The pain isn’t bad, and my drugs are good. But I have no stamina. I’ve spent the last week pretty much asleep and/or stoned, Dear Readers, which has put a serious crimp in my bloggery. I do not currently bend especially at the waist – rather like an Ent, reclining has been achieved by a very brief fall onto a slanted surface. The only way I’ve been able to sleep has been in a recliner – the cats love this, as my pillow and blankets and I are thus at their constant disposal; but getting me in and out of the thing has been problematical. A winch would have been handy …

But last night, I finally managed to lie down in my own bed and sleep lying flat! The bliss of being able to stretch out one’s legs and go limp cannot be over-estimated, Dear Readers; even with sad kitten eyes blinking at one in the darkness.  The Orange Fluff Cat managed to content herself by stealing one of my pillows – I don’t have the stamina to successfully wrestle a cat for possession of my own pillow.

Still, I am much better. And I am getting more so. I haven’t had any pain killers at all today; which means I can be pretty sure of what dimension I am in. It’s been kind of up for grabs until today … I seem to have spent a lot of time up near the ceiling lately.

Things are better now, though. And I don’t miss the damned kidney one itty bitty bit. My various surgical stab wounds are all purring with satisfaction.

Tomorrow I’ll describe the peculiar dimensional hub I’ve been inhabiting at night. Strange scenes, indeed …